siete
by azazels
Summary: for club for the book fanatics ship week. title is spanish for seven; drabble series. o4 - apocalypse. side note: i have no idea what i'm doing whatsoever.
1. murder

**I don't know what I'm doing. I think you can kinda tell. Drabble series. I guess.**

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murder

(pairing: jiris: cftbf ship week day one)

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"MURDER," Jordan screamed for the twenty-fourth time in a row. "I mean what."

"Jordan, no," Iris replied, beginning to rant. "Murdering kills people, and when people die, other people get upset. Upset means people will do bad and dangerous things. Murdering is bad, okay?"

"But murder."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"What if I become a serial killer to draw Sherlock out from hiding? You'd thank me for that, wouldn't you?"

"JORDAN!"

"MURDER!"

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**Is this ooc because I really can't tell.**


	2. three little shippers

**I still don't know what I'm doing. Joan, get the youtried stars ready. Forgive me.**

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three little shippers

(pairing: shipping trio: cftbf ship week day two)

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Once upon a time, there were three little shippers named Sunny, Joan, and Iris. They were inseparable, best friends, and well, shippers. The shipping trio tried to conduct a normal, fangirly life, sending their prayers to Castiel every morning, making timey-wimey references, going on tumblr, constantly moaning about the lack of proper wifi around the world, and last but not least, shipping jortato (a rather lovely couple between their friends, Jordan and Tate.)

However, just like every other good old-fashioned fairytale, a peaceful life will never be available, especially for a fangirl.

One day, Water Wolfhart came strolling down the road towards FanaticVille, the current home of the shipping trio. Water Wolfhart was more commonly known as the "Wolf" around FanaticVille, possibly because of her canine features, possibly because of her habit of gulping down any shipper who dared to ship jortato whole.

This time, the Wolf came straight for the shipping trio, who were watching _BBC Sherlock_ in Sunny's living room. The three, too absorbed in the television series, did not hear the Wolf as she approached the house made of posters.

The Wolf huffed and puffed and blew down the house, scattering the posters everywhere.

The three, panicked at the sight of the Wolf, ran and ran and ran until they reached Joan's house, a generally sturdier structure made of cardboard cutouts.

The Wolf, following in pursuit, considered her chances upon reaching the house. Finally, she huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed and blew. The house rattled but didn't fall.

Joan breathed a sigh of relief.

But the Wolf didn't give up. She huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed and blew again with greater force. This time, the house fell, the cardboard falling to the ground.

The shipping trio ran again, the Wolf hot on their heels. This time, they ran to Iris's house, a building made of desktop computers and other hardware.

Needless to say, the Wolf huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed and huffed and puffed, but no matter how many times she huffed and puffed and blew, the metallic house would not fall until eventually, the Wolf ran out of breath and sulked away with her ponytail between her legs.

The shipping trio went back to watching _BBC Sherlock_.

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**I regret nothing.**


	3. rawr

**I'm so done with myself. Someone help me.**

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rawr

(pairing: riordan: cftbf ship week day three)

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"Gimme some jortato," demanded Joan. "Come on, Jord, profess your true feelings to your princess."

"No," replied Jordan, huffing slightly.

"Please?"

"Rawr."

Joan #thwackedjord upside the head, frowning. "That's my line."

"No, it isn't." In retaliation to the thwack, Jordan attempted to pull Joan's hair, which resulted in some yells and slaps. "Rawr is now my line. Not yours." He rubbed his now-red cheek with the heel of his hand, flinching as he felt where Joan's hand had connected with his face. "Geez, woman."

"Rawr."

"No. My rawr."

"..."

_"My rawr!"_

"RAWR."

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**I need help.**


	4. apocalypse

**Crack, crack, and more crack. /humshappily.**

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apocalypse

(pairing: snapple: cftbf ship week day four)

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Ash and other pieces of rubble fell from the sky as two siblings ran down the street, hand in hand, trying to avoid the shadows of buildings about to collapse. Finding temporary refuge under the space provided by two blocks of concrete, the two sat down, breathing rapidly.

"Twelve minutes," Snow panted, looking down at her watch, stained with ash. "Twelve minutes until the world is scheduled to end. Super."

"Oh, you can do loads in twelve minutes," Apple shamelessly referenced, taking two blankets out from his backpack. He handed one to his sister. "Here, raise this over your head when you run. Might help."

Instead, Snow wrapped the blanket around her body, shaking and grumbling. "Some apocalypse this is. I should be bombing people's children right now."

Apple didn't reply. Instead, he followed Snow's lead and wrapped the blanket around himself. "If we're gonna die, we're gonna die looking like a Peruvian folk band."

"Apple, this is so not the time to be making_ Doctor Who_ references."

"Snow, this is so not the time to be the the president of Panem."

"App—"

"LOOK OUT!"

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**I regret nothing.**


End file.
